


The Family Jewels

by HeavenlyHunny



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: F/F, F/M, I promise they’re interesting, Set after the events of the books, Several OCs but they come later, Takes place 11 years later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-09-25 22:53:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavenlyHunny/pseuds/HeavenlyHunny
Summary: “I hope it bothers you. I hope it makes your skin crawl and keeps you up at night...knowing that you’re living like dirt and the people who killed your parents are living like royalty”Violet gulped and looked up at the familiar shiny eyes, looking down on her and the older woman.





	1. I Can’t Break the Cycle

**Author's Note:**

> Look at me starting a new story when I haven’t finished my other one! I’m terrible at keeeping a schedule :(, but I couldn’t help but start writing this story. I’ve had the idea for a long time so might as well put in the work!
> 
> Hope u enjoy! ;)

“Are you sure this is all you want, Ms. Aedu?”

The girl pushed a strand of her messy brown hair behind her ear. She avoided all eye contact with the woman in front of her. Even though she herself had on sunglasses, for balance reasons, she kept her head facing the floor. 

“I’m sure,” the brown haired girl replied, quietly. 

The cashier gave the girl a strange look, but handed her the small sum of money, nonetheless. 

The woman watched, curiously, as the brown haired girl rushed quickly out of the building to a rickety old car parked on the other side of the street. 

The girl held her hand up, keeping the sun out of her eyes, and picked up her speed as she headed towards the car. 

She let out a long sigh as she planted herself in the driver’s seat, putting the wad of cash in the lap of the person sitting next to her. 

“Wow. I can’t believe they actually gave it to you,” the voice of a little blonde haired girl taunted, from the backseat. 

“You really expect me to let you drive?” The man in the passenger seat said, with a frown, as he slid the cash in to the pocket of his torn jacket. 

“I’m fine, Klaus,” the brown haired girl mumbled, using her brother’s real name...the one he hadn’t heard, spoken out loud in public, for a while. 

“No Violet, you’re not fine,” he sighed, “and I’m not letting you drive.”

“I do this all the time. This time won’t be any different,” Violet said quietly, eyes still angled down, staring into her lap. 

“Look, I don’t wanna be the buzzkill here,” another, deeper, voice added from the backseat, “but I also don’t want my last memories to be in this busted ol’ thing if we die in a car wreck. So...I think Klaus should drive.”

“I’m not going to wreck the damn car, Sunny!” Violet snapped. 

The other three inhabitants of the car jumped at Violet’s sudden outburst. 

The oldest girl buried her face in her hands, letting out a strangled sound of frustration. She felt her brother lay a comforting hand on her back. 

She felt Klaus reach into her coat pocket and pull out her fake ID. The ink with the name Erial B. Aedu, which she’d chosen as a clever anagram of her last name, was beginning to fade. 

“I gotta give Spike some credit,” Sunny chuckled, sitting up to look closer at the Card, “he did a pretty good job on that thing.”

“Of course he did,” the blonde haired girl chimed in from her seat next to Sunny, “Spike can do anything. Plus, he gave us that discount, because he’s in looooove with Violet.”

“He is NOT in love with me, Beatrice,” Violet groaned, giving the younger girl a small smile in the rear view mirror. 

“Yeah yeah, that’s what you say, but we all see the looks he gives you,” Beatrice teased, “it’s the same way Sunny looks at Baywatch.”

Sunny shot Beatrice a dangerous look, causing the other girl to smirk. 

“Well, I can’t blame Sunny there, Bea. David Hasselhoff is pretty nice to look at,” Violet giggled. 

“Right...cause THAT’S who she’s looking at,” Beatrice teased sarcastically, earning her a nudge in the side from a very frantic and annoyed looking Sunny. 

The blonde girl looked up to see her slightly older sister narrowing her eyes at her. 

Beatrice let her innocent smile curl into a smirk as she reached up and kissed Sunny’s cheek. 

“Uhh...I uh don’t even watch Baywatch that much,” Sunny chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of her neck oddly, as she tried to think up a response, “I’m more of a Dynasty girl, myself.”

“Well, now that Violet was able to get this money, we can at least keep the TV so we can watch all those things,” Klaus reassured smiling. 

Violet smiled as warmly as she could at her brother, despite her current despair. 

“Yes it’s great,” she agreed, “but I’m still driving us home.”

“What?! Vi-“

But Klaus was cut off as Violet quickly started up the car and swerved out of the parking space and onto the main road. 

“Fine, but we better not die!” Beatrice shouted from the backseat, “I just turned 11! I have my whole life ahead of me! Remember that!”

Violet sighed and smiled, shaking her head at her younger sister’s remark. 

She often forgot how young Beatrice, and even Sunny, were. After all the 4 of them had been through, they always seemed so much older to her. Beatrice for different reasons than Sunny. 

Sunny had always had, what violet called, an old soul. Even when she was an infant, she seemed to have a good understand of everything that was happening around her. Whether it was deciphering who was noble or wicked, or simply trying to escape each treacherous plot from Olaf, Sunny always seemed just as aware as she and Klaus were. 

Even as the girl grew older and bigger, her brain remained just as advanced as it’d always been. Sunny wasn’t the greatest student in school, but Violet has concluded that it had more to do with the structure of school itself, rather than Sunny’s own intelligence. From what they could tell, Sunny even showed signs of having an eidetic memory and was stellar at solving puzzles. So Violet often decided to look at the C’s she received in school as results of Sunny having a particular learning style that wasn’t being pandered to. 

Violet wanted more for Sunny than what she had for herself, and even though her grades weren’t the most outstanding, she was still on track to graduate...which was more than Violet had been able to do. 

She was proud of her sister pushing on, despite everything they’d been through. She was a wise girl. 

Beatrice, on the other hand, was a completely different story. A story that often scared Violet and threw in many different, unexpected plot twists. 

Beatrice was somewhat of a prodigy. She was only 11, three-ish years younger than Sunny, but was already taking classes at the high school Sunny attended. 

She’d been skipped up many grades and barely had any friends her own age...not that she wanted any. 

Besides the friends she’d made at during her years staying at the local orphanage, and the few others she’d made in her dance class, Beatrice wasn’t one to have many close acquaintances. 

It wasn’t that Beatrice was anti-social. No, the girl was a social butterfly. She treated society like a stage to perform on, and its people were her audience. The girl was quite dramatic and often spoke loudly in public, as if to put a show on for her peers. 

But Beatrice’s lack of friends mostly came from her personality. 

She frightened people. 

Violet couldn’t even count the amount of times Beatrice had been a suspect in the “strange” antics that occurred at her school. 

Each day was something new. A trash can was lit on fire, a teacher had a nervous breakdown, a student was running down the hallway screaming something incoherent, etc. 

And that was only a few. 

Beatrice had never been punished for any of this, even though she had been a suspect for all these things. She always seemed to have an alibi, and there was never enough evidence to pin it on her. 

But as soon as Bea was out of the school and earshot of those in charge, she’d let out a sinister chuckled and admit that she’d done whatever horrible action it was...proudly. 

If Violet were honest, even she herself would probably steer clear of Beatrice if she wasn’t her legal guardian. 

Once Violet even swore the spirit of Olaf had leaped inside of Beatrice the moment he died, and Beatrice was born. 

She knew the thought was crazy, but Violet genuinely questioned it some days. 

Whenever Violet looked at Beatrice’s calm sleeping face or happy smiling face, she saw the strong and noble Kit Snicket, Beatrice’s mother who many, although they knew nothing of Beatrice’s personality, compared Bea to. 

But whenever Bea curled her face up into one of her infamous smirks, it’s as if she and Kit weren’t even related. Beatrice’s aura would darken and it would send chills down Violet’s spine. 

She had no idea where Beatrice had gotten such a dark side from. Kit and Dewey were some of the most noble people Violet had ever met. But anytime Violet would bring that up, Beatrice would roll her eyes and Sunny would snicker...for some reason. 

Beatrice was a genius though, enough to land her, basically, in high school at 11. And she was very good in school....whenever she wasn’t skipping. 

Violet tried to give her some freedom, since she wasn’t technically her mother, but even she had a hard time keeping up with the devilish preteen. 

Violet always just tried her best to keep Beatrice satisfied, in fear of her running away, again, or retaliating against Violet’s authority. 

Beatrice had threatened Violet before, and after seeing what Bea had done to some of her teachers, Violet really didn’t want to be on the young girl’s bad side. 

But another part of Violet did feel bad for Bea. They were aware that much of VFD died or disappeared a long time ago, but those volunteers that were still around, and knew of the Baudelaire's existence, were obsessed with Beatrice and often encouraged her to be just like Kit was. 

Everyone who met her immediately ran to embrace Beatrice and shower her with compliments, which always sounded less like compliments and more like “thank you for being related to Kit”. None of them really knew anything about Beatrice herself, they only knew she was the daughter of the legendary Kit Snicket, and that was enough for them. 

Violet could tell Beatrice was starting to resent her mother, which was saddening, but Violet understood why. 

It was hard living in your parents shadow...she of all people should know. 

She knew how it felt to be expected to live up to some predetermined standard and fail

Even now, as she attempted to drive her siblings back to their home, despite being very...high...she felt as if her own mother was looking down at her in shame. 

“Well looky there,” Beatrice snorted, “you managed to get us all home alive and in one piece.”

“I told you I could,” Violet replied softly. 

She could feel Klaus’ judging eyes staring at her as she turned off the old car’s engine. 

“If you do this again, I’m seriously not letting you drive next time,” Klaus sighed. 

“Damn Klaus, she just did all this proving that she can drive us places while stoned!” Beatrice chuckled. 

“Watch your language, Bea!” Klaus huffed. 

The blonde girl rolled her eyes at her brother’s remark, but kept her mouth shut. 

Violet slowly eased her way out of the vehicle and wobbled over to the front door of the small shack. 

It wasn’t much of a home at all, but it’s what they could afford. Violet clumsily inserted her key into the lock, stumbling into the small room once she got it opened. 

“Home sweet home,” Sunny mumbled sarcastically. 

Violet snickered slightly at her sister’s words, even though she’d barely heard them. She was too busy standing in the middle of the room, letting the world spin around her. 

It was how she spent most of her days now. Wake up, grab a joint, make breakfast and feel the high creeping up her back and making its way to her brain, then she’d bid her siblings farewell, as Sunny and Beatrice went to school and Klaus to his job at the ball park, then she’d lie around in bed for another hour, trying to get as many drugs into her system as she could, before finally heading off to her own “job”. 

It was a viscous and terrible cycle that she’d fallen into, but she was beginning to care less and less about life itself. 

It was all bullshit anyway. 

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” Klaus suggested, with a hopeful tone, with his clear attempt at trying to lighten the dark mood that had befallen the group. 

“We just got home,” Sunny groaned, obviously tired. 

“Yes, but I forgot that I need flour for what I’m gonna make for dinner,” Klaus explained, “I was gonna have to go back out to get it anyways if we wanted to eat tonight.”

“Eh Fine,” Beatrice shrugged, “a walk doesn’t sound so bad. Although I’m not sure violet can even do that much, right now.”

“I-I’m fine,” Violet stuttered quietly, blinking rapidly and twisting her face into odd contortions as she tried to regain some of her soberness. 

“Vi, you can stay here if you want,” Klaus sighed, smiling sadly at his sickly sister, “we won’t be gone long.”

“No! It’s fine! I’m fine!” Violet said quickly, stumbling slightly as she whipped around to face her brother, “I-I want to come with you guys.”

Klaus sighed again and looked into her wide, bloodshot eyes. 

“Okay Vi,” he agreed reluctantly. 

Violet did her best attempt at a smile, which turned out to look more as if she were constipated, which of course made young Beatrice and Sunny laugh. 

Klaus buried his face in his hands, walking over to go open the door for his siblings. He moved his hands long enough to gesture outside, leading the girls back out of their “home”. 

Violet glanced over at her brother as they all walked. 

He was the one person who could make her feel bad about her life choices these days. She constantly felt as if she was letting all of her siblings down, but especially Klaus. 

Their whole lives, the younger boy always looked up to his sister for strength, but she felt as if she were out of strength and encouragement to give him. 

She was worn out and could barely take care of herself, and yet she knew he still expected her to take care of him and the others. 

But Klaus had done well accommodating to his sister’s current condition and their very unfortunate circumstances. He got his own job serving food at the baseball stadium, and made sure to keep Beatrice and sunny out of trouble as much as he could. 

Violet really was thankful for her brother and she knew she needed to tell him that more. He’d told her time and time again that she didn’t need to thank him and that was what family was for, but she always felt as if she were failing him and the others. 

Deep down Klaus knew Violet had done everything for them when they were growing up, and didn’t mind that she’d sort of crashed and burned. As hard as she worked could take a toll on anyone, and take its toll it did. Poor Violet was an addict and wasn’t exactly on the right side of the law...but then again, none of them were really. 

But Klaus did worry about her often. He was willing to accept her need for a break, but he’d seen many stories of people overdosing at young ages, which made him very nervous for his sister. 

He could feel her slowly slipping away from them. 

Violet knew this. 

She knew that Klaus and the others were beginning to sense her lack of caring. Lack of will to live. 

She hated that she worried them so much...but she always knew that they weren’t necessarily wrong. She hated this whole goddamn earth and was close to being done with it. 

She sighed to herself, not remembering when she’d gotten so bitter and cynical, but knowing that that’s who she was now. 

She wasn’t the young hopeful teenager that she’d once been. 

She was twenty fucking six years old and she hated the world and everyone in it. 

She’d accepted her transformation into the doubtful, pessimistic, and angry person she’d become. 

She EMBRACED it now. 

Violet felt her lip curl up into a small smile and tried to spin on her heal to celebrate her little pity party, but felt herself stumble back. 

It took hers minute, but she slowly realized that she’d tripped on something...err...someone. 

Violet suddenly felt quite sober, much to her dismay, and brushed herself off as she stood to face the cause of her fall. 

Violet gasped, slightly, as she came face to face with an older looking woman, sitting on the ground and looking up at her. 

She gulped nervously and looked around to find the guidance of her siblings, only to find that they weren’t there. 

She looked around and saw that she was standing outside the small grocery store, realizing that Klaus and the others had gone inside, probably quite some time ago. 

She was alone. 

“Um...I’m sorry ma’am, I-I didn’t see where I was going,” Violet apologized quietly, letting out a nervous chuckle. 

“Do you always do that?” The woman’s high pitched, cracked voice asked. 

“D-Do what?” Violet asked in confusion. 

What did the woman mean?

“Walk around with your eyes closed and talk to yourself in public places,” the woman explained, her voice sounding amused, as if she were taunting Violet. 

“Oh...um, no. I was just...thinking about something...out loud,” Violet explained, her cheeks becoming heated in embarrassment. 

“Sure, you were,” the woman sneered. 

“Thank you! Have a good day!” Klaus’ voice boomed as he and his sisters exited the store. 

The three met up with Violet, who was still looking nervously at the old woman. 

“Oh, um, hello miss,” Klaus greeted awkwardly, yet politely. 

“Hello, dear boy,” the old woman smiled and returned the greeting. 

“I accidentally tripped over her leg,” Violet explained quietly, “I was just apologizing real quick.”

“Yes,” the woman agreed, “hey boy, whatever drugs your sister is on, i want you to bring some to me. I haven’t been that far gone since I was in my twenties!”

Violet felt herself blush immediately. The woman was almost taunting her for it. 

“Look ma’am, we really should be going-“ Klaus began. 

“Ha! I wonder what Beatrice would say if she could see you all pathetic children now!” The woman laughed as she cut him off, continuing to taunt. 

The children all snapped their heads up and looked at each other at the mention of their mother’s name. 

“D-Did you know our mo?-“

“She’d disown you!” The woman teased, beginning to laugh harder and harder. 

Violet felt her heart sink at the woman’s harsh words. 

“I can’t believe Beatrice Baudelaire, of all people, raised a little druggie!” The woman snarled, her sharp eyes glaring judgingly at Violet. 

“Leave my sister alone!” Sunny snapped angrily. 

The woman finally stopped laughing, long enough to smirk at the young girl. 

“You little volunteers were always so sensitive! Oh it must sting, mustn’t it?” The woman asked with a chuckle. 

“What must sting?” Klaus asked with a scowl. 

“Oh I bet it does...I HOPE it does,” the woman continued, her voice gaining a creepy tone, “I hope it bothers you. I hope it makes your skin crawl and keeps you up at night...knowing that you’re living like dirt and the people who killed your parents are living like royalty.”

Violet gulped and looked up at the familiar shiny eyes, looking down on her and the older woman. 

She’d noticed them as the woman was speaking. The eyes. They watched her from a window sitting above the main area of the grocery store. 

They glowed in a familiar hungry way, as if their only goal was to soon swallow her whole. 

Even their color was the same. 

It was the bright and sharp eyes of Count Olaf...watching her for the first time, she hoped, in 11 years. 

She couldn’t see the rest of his body, however, although she could tell from the way the eyes were squinted, that he was laughing. 

The words of the old woman finally registered with her and it was if the world began to close in on Violet. 

She was suddenly sick to her stomach and felt as if she were suffocating. 

“K-K-Klaus, we have to go!” She shouted and turned around, running as fast as she could in the other direction, hearing as her siblings followed quickly behind her. 

She was definitely sober now. Or maybe even higher...she couldn’t tell. But was she did know was that she could hear Olaf’s voice playing in her head over and over, getting louder and louder. The same words that he’d said to her so many years ago. 

“I'll kill you and your siblings with my own two hands.”


	2. Am I Just a Fool?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into Beatrice and Sunny’s time at school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned! Enjoy! ;)

Beatrice threw the balled up piece of paper across the room and watched as it landed on the head of a girl sitting in the front row. 

The ginger girl immediately reached and grabbed the item off her head and angrily turned around to glare at Beatrice. 

Sitting up in her chair, Beatrice made sure to give her one of her cutest and most innocent smiles she could. The girl wasn’t impressed, however, which made sense since Beatrice didn’t really expect her to be fooled by it.

Bea turned to eye the clock just above the teacher’s head, checking the time and wondering how long she’d be forced to sit in this hell called school. 

Bea swore she’d never make her children go. True, it might not have been legal, but she knew if she pulled the right strings, there’d be someway for her to get around it. 

After all, if there was one thing she was good at, it was avoiding punishments. It wasn’t even hard. It was like the world didn’t want her to get in trouble, even though she always did her best to find it. 

Between her status as the “last remaining Snicket” and her own skill, there was hardly any way for her to end up in any kind of predicament. 

Which was something she LOVED. 

However, besides her apparent “immunity”, there weren’t many advantages to being a Snicket. At least, not the way Beatrice saw it. 

Everywhere she turned, some old volunteer, who she’d never met before, was running up to her and embracing her. Every single encounter was the same. They’d all hug her and tell her something she probably already knew about Kit, eventually ending the conversation by inviting her to some “tea circle” and promising to always be there for her if she needed anything. 

It was all such bullshit. 

Beatrice knew these people didn’t REALLY care about her. How could they? They didn’t even KNOW her. 

But she’d been cursed with the same dirty blonde hair and soft greenish-brown eyes as her mother, so she’d be forced to live with it for the rest of her life. At least until she was able to escape the clutches of V.F.D. 

Unlike her siblings, Beatrice wasn’t quite fond of the idea of V.F.D. at all. From what she’d been exposed to, so far, all it seemed like was a bunch of snobs who made things more complicated than they needed to be and only did “good” when it benefited them in some way. 

One particular encounter always stuck with Bea. A middle aged woman had approached her with a bright smile and began her conversation with Beatrice the same way all volunteers did, showering her with praises of her resemblance to her mother and finding some irrelevant fact about Kit to tell her. Then, of course, the “discussion” proceeded to the usual promise of being there for all of Bea’s needs, no matter what they were. 

For the first time, Bea had decided to test that promise to see if the people really meant all the things they told her. She’d looked up at the woman with the sweetest look she could muster up and began to explain, in the most mature way possible, how she and the Baudelaire’s were dirt poor and needed a place to stay, for a little while, or at least some money to help them search for a nicer place to live. 

She would never forget the look on the woman’s face. It went from the usual warm expression Bea received from V.F.D. agents, to a sudden look of nervousness and, poorly-masked, disgust. 

The woman then spent the next few minutes stuttering out an “apologetic” response as to why she couldn’t help Bea and her siblings with their predicament. 

Bea had heard all she needed to hear to understand who the precious V.F.D. volunteers really were, but Violet didn’t seem to see it the same way. Bea tried to explain what’d happened and what it all said about the organization’s, so called, “noble” members, but Violet merely brushed it off. 

It was as if Violet were a different person whenever they were around agents of the organization. All other moments in her life, Violet was a cynical, depressed, pessimistic woman who barely had the energy to brush her hair in the morning. But whenever anyone from V.F.D. was around, Violet put on her little mask of perfection and tried to appear as the “perfect volunteer”. 

Even though it was clear to Beatrice that the agents couldn’t care less that Violet and her siblings were struggling, Violet still felt the need to strive for their approval. 

It annoyed the hell out of Beatrice. 

After peering at the clock once more, Bea let out a long, and purposefully loud, sigh of frustration. 

Even though she never stopped discussing whatever boring topic she was teaching, Bea’s teacher glared in her direction, giving her the nastiest look she could. 

Bea, of course, gave her best smirk in response, along with a little wave to top it all off. 

Despite her being the only person in the administration who could easily see through Beatrice’s mask of innocence, Bea was actually quite fond Ms. Ramona. 

She was the only one who had the guts to challenge her. The only one who really ever thought to do it in the first place. Apparently Kit has been very involved at the school Beatrice was attending in particular, although she had no idea why, which meant most of the teachers, even those who weren’t members of V.F.D., knew her mother and tended to pander to Beatrice. No matter how many times she ended up in the office, all she’d have to do was bat her eyes and everyone would swoon. If she gave the people even a taste of what Kit had been, they’d all fall at her feet. 

But not Ms. Ramona. 

No, Ramona Dell was a special kind of volunteer. One who didn’t automatically get twinkles in her eyes at the mention of Kit’s name. The only one who Beatrice had ever heard even dare to criticize Kit. 

Bea had tried to use her magic Snicket charm on the woman. She used every trick she knew that had gotten her a reaction from the other volunteers, but Ramona never budged. She’d narrow her eyes at Beatrice and make it clear that whatever worked on the other agents wasn’t going to work on her. 

The woman even claimed to know Kit better than anyone else Bea had met...which might’ve been the problem. 

She had yet to tell Beatrice any specifics, but Ramona would always hint at there being a different side to Kit that people hardly ever mentioned, which was probably the most thrilling thing about her mother Beatrice ever learned. 

Even though the two continued to bump heads, Beatrice couldn’t help but respect the woman. She, unlike the rest of V.F.D., seemed to, at least, have a grip on reality. 

Bea smiled to herself and let out another obnoxiously loud sigh. 

“Is there a problem, Ms. Snicket?” Ramona huffed, clearly already quite annoyed with the young girl’s antics. 

“Not at all, Ms. Dell,” Beatrice reassured, baring a sweet smile. 

Ramona gave the girl one final glare before dismissing the class, five minutes before the bell was scheduled to ring. 

Beatrice watched as her classmates quickly filed out of the room, waving to her friends as they waited for her by the door of the classroom. 

Bea waited til the room was completely free of students, before stalking over to Ramona’s desk. 

“What do you want?” the woman snarled at the young girl.

Beatrice was used to it by now. She didn’t even blame the woman, since she had made that past couple of months quite difficult for her. No matter how hard Ramona tried to convince her colleagues of Beatrice’s true personality, no one ever gave her the time of day. Everytime they looked at Beatrice, their eyes filled with images of Kit.

“I just came to see my favorite teacher, of course,” Bea said, her tone laced with sarcasm, even though Ramona was probably her favorite.

“Bullshit,” Ramona replied, rolling her eyes, “you want something. You wouldn’t have came up here if you didn’t.”

“The fact that you know me so well is actually quite charming,” Bea said smiling, “but don’t be too frightened. It isn’t anything bad.”

Ramona sighed, turning to face the girl, her arms folded over her chest.

“Fine. What is it?” she asked.

“I want you to tell me something about my mother,” Bea said plainly.

“Don’t you already get enough of that?” Ramona said with a jaded chuckle.

“No,” Bea sighed, a frown becoming visible on her face, “the others don’t tell me things about her. They tell me what they saw her as, not anything she did specifically. I’m constantly bombarded with people saying things about how “noble” and “kind” and “selfless” she was. You see? Only adjectives. That might be enough for some individuals, but I’m an “actions speak louder” person, myself. The woman gave birth to me, but I feel like I barely know her. I want someone to tell me things she used to say and do. I want specifics, dammit.”

“I swear, you’re the oldest 11 year old I’ve ever met,” Ramona said, shaking her head and letting her lips curl up into a slight smile.

“Well, clearly you’ve never met my siblings,” Bea replied, rolling her own eyes and sighing, “they’re basically prodigies.”  
“You don’t consider yourself to be one?” Ramona asked, eyebrow raised, “you’re 11 and in high school. I consider that mighty impressive, if I do say so myself.”

“I guess so, but not in the same way they are,” Bea explained, “by the time they were my age, they probably could’ve been in college with full paid scholarships. Violet would be an engineer and Klaus some type of professor.”

“Hmm, I’ll give that to you. It does seem like something the children of Beatrice Baudelaire would accomplish, if given the chance,” Ramona admitted, “what about Sunny?”

Ramona watched Bea’s eyes divert toward the ground, making it clear she was thinking, before her mouth curled into a slight smirk.

“She’d probably have to wait,” Bea chuckled, “she’s not the best academic, and I doubt that culinary schools provide scholarships.”

“And how would Violet and Klaus feel about that?” Ramona asked, curious to hear Bea’s take on the attitudes of her older siblings.

“Well there’s not much they can do about it,” Bea evaluated, “but they’ve definitely made it clear that they’d like more from Sunny, even though at this stage of their lives, it seems quite hypocritical of them to say.”

“Why is that?” Ramona asked, faking naivety.

“Don’t entertain me,” Bea said, crossing her arms, “I know you’re aware of what Violet and Klaus do for a living.”

“You’re right, I am,” Ramona admitted, “it just interests me, quite a bit. I wonder if Sunny has the same bitter attitude towards them that you do.”

“Oh, she does, or at least she will,” Bea answered simply, “although at the moment, there seems to be another thing troubling her, that takes importance over anything Violet or Klaus could say to her.”

“And what is that?” Ramona asked.

“It’s not my place to tell,” Bea said with a smirk, “although, that’s only because I’m in a good mood, at the moment. But it’s more of an inner turmoil, if you know what I mean.”

“That does narrow it down, but only slightly,” Ramona said, “maybe you can collect more information on it, since her class should be getting out soon.”  
“Nice try, but you can’t get rid of me that easily,” Bea complimented sarcastically, “you still have to tell me something about my mother. You’ve claimed to have known her better than anyone else I’ve come across. Who better for me to get information from, then?”

“Fine. She was a blonde,” Ramona said simply, turning away from the girl and back towards her papers.

“You take me for a fool, I see,” Beatrice scoffed, narrowing her eyes at the woman, “that’s not the information I want to hear, and you know it.”

“It’s not my information to tell,” Ramona sighed, in annoyance, “you can get it easily from other sources. Ones who know quite a bit more than I do.”

“What sources?” Bea asked, accusingly.

“Once again, not my place,” Ramona replied.

“How the hell am I supposed to get my information if you don’t tell me who these sources are?” Bea huffed, her anger rising.

“You can go out searching for them, if you want,” Ramona suggested, “but I have no doubt that they will find their way to you first. They’ve always been good at that.”

Bea opened her mouth to retort once more, but a flood of children entered the room, signally Ramona to get up from her seat to prepare for teaching her after-school session. The woman looked back at Bea once more, smirking, and disappeared into her office to find her materials.

Beatrice huffed, in annoyance, once more, before leaving the room to join her friends in the hallway.

“What were you and Ms. Dell talking about?” Bea’s friend, Sinclair, asked curiously.

“Everything and nothing,” Bea growled, clearly still upset with her lack of information gained.

“Don’t let it get to you, Bea,” her other friend. Aurora, reassured, tucking a strand of her short red hair behind her ear, “you know she was probably just messing with you. You can’t really blame her, since that’s kinda what you two do.”

“I know,” Bea said, rolling her eyes, as she opened her locker to retrieve her jacket, “but it can be quite frustrating when I need something out of her. Then again, I recall that I’ve done a similar thing to her that time I set Janice’s hair on fire.”

Her friends gave her a knowing smile, as they were quite aware of Bea’s antics, however their faces fell once they caught sight of the small crowd of women approaching them.

“Oh my! Tia, darling, I must say, I didn’t believe you at first! But now that I see her with my own eyes, it’s unmistakable!” the middle age woman exclaimed as she walked quickly towards Beatrice.

“Oh, it’s understandable dear,” another woman, probably Tia, replied in agreement, “I was quite skeptical myself, but once I saw and spoke to her, I knew it was true!”

The women quickly approached Beatrice, one of them immediately grabbing her face and pinching Bea’s soft cheeks.

“Just like Kit’s used to be!” the middle aged woman sighed, happily, “it’s wonderful to meet you, Beatrice darling, I was a colleague of your late mother.”

“Oh really?!” Bea replied in a fake astonished tone, her voice laced with sarcasm and annoyance, which those who were close to her could’ve easily detected.

“Yes! You’re mother was one of the bravest and most noble volunteers we ever had,” the woman continued, a large smile plastered on her face, “it’s so good to see you following in her footsteps!”

Aurora and Sinclair snickered to themselves. They themselves didn’t really understand the whole “VFD” thing, no matter how many times Bea had tried to explain it to them. But they never failed to enjoy watching a new group of people approach Beatrice, their eyes twinkling, and acting as if they knew the girl. Even more, they enjoyed watching Bea’s little evil twinkle in her own eye grow as the people showered her with undeserved compliments, which had no basis since the people had just met the girl.

Bea always zoned out as the people repeated the usually script that came with every encounter from a fallen volunteer. She’d looked deeply into their eyes and picture them being met with an unfortunate accident, and it usually calmed her anger and made such encounters a little more bearable.

“Oh and don’t forget her father!” Tia added, smiling.

“Oh yes, how could I forget?” the middle aged woman sighed.

Bea’s head snapped up, her eyes becoming clearer. This was the first time anyone had even mentioned her father, who she had been told was named Dewey...a dumb name in Bea’s opinion.

“I myself never met Dewey. Many of us didn’t even think he existed,” the woman continued, “but we were all so relieved when we heard that he and Kit had married.”

“Oh yes, what a relief it was,” Tia agreed, “no longer was there that threat of defection always tapping on her shoulder. She was ours for sure, then.”

“What?” Bea asked in confusion. She’d never heard any of this before, for sure.

“Oh Tia, dear! We’re going to be late!” the woman exclaimed, eyeing the watch on her wrist, “it was wonderful to meet you, darling!”

“Wait!” Beatrice cried after them, although it was too late. Just as fast as the women were there, they were gone.

Bea let out an annoyed groan. Twice today she had been close to gaining information and failed. Bea turned and saw Ramona watching her through her classroom window with a smirk, causing Bea to scowl back at her.

“What was all that about, Bea?” Sinclair asked, “you usually can’t wait to get away from people like that, and now you’re calling after them.”

“Today has been an interesting day, to say the least,” Bea sighed, “but dammit if I let it ruin my mood. That was the first time anyone had mentioned my father, and I was curious to find out something new regarding my real family.”

“You’ll find out something soon enough, Bea” Aurora reassured, chuckling.

“I better,” Bea sighed, “I’m not sure how many more nostalgic volunteers I can take.”

“But Bea, aren’t those your people?” Sinclair teased.

“Correction. Those are...were, my mother’s people,” Bea said, her voiced raised, as she walked down the hallway, towards Sunny’s classroom and away from her friends, “I’m my own person, whether they see that or not! I should be able to make my own decisions, godammit! No volunteer or Baudelaire can tell me who I am. I hate the hypocritical volunteers, and I’m quite fond of fire. I’m a baticeer, and from what I can tell about myself, a pyromaniac. I hate the fire department! I’m a VFD Villain, dammit!”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

 

Sunny swore letters and numbers shouldn’t ever belong together in a subject. It was like they were trying to set her up to fail. Everything on the board looked like gibberish to Sunny, which made it even more difficult since her professor actually expected her to solve the shit. 

Sunny let out a quiet sigh of frustration. Math should definitely be illegal, she thought. 

She couldn’t believe there were people who were actually good at this stuff. The thought caused her mind to, once again, drift to the person sitting diagonally behind her. The person who was a genius at this stuff...and other stuff, as well. 

Sunny immediately shook her head furiously, attempting to clear her mind of the thought. She was determined to go at least five minutes without a thought of them coming into her head. 

It had been more difficult than Sunny had planned, though. Ignoring them, she meant. 

It was supposed to be easy and quick. She planned to make up excuses as to why the two couldn’t spend time together, until finally they were as distant as two strangers. 

But it had proved to be more of a challenge than she originally thought, seeing as how there were only five of them in their friend group. So if Sunny wanted to hang out with anyone, she was forced to hang out with all of them, which included...her. 

Sunny could tell that the others had easily figured out there was a problem. The two had gone from being inseparable and, basically, hanging on to each other any chance they got, to now hardly being seen next to each other. Sunny now made sure to walk on the opposite side of wherever the other girl was and did her best to never speak or make eye contact with her. 

So far, Sunny had been successful, but her efforts definitely hadn’t gone unnoticed. She felt bad, since it was clear that she’d made things awkward amongst the group, but she didn’t know what else to do. 

She knew what she was doing was sorta fucked up, but she’d made up her mind. 

She was going to stay away from Brooke...for her own sanity. 

“Paris, do you have an eraser I can borrow?” Brooke’s honey-esque voice broke through Sunny’s thoughts, causing her to flinch. 

Sunny tried to catch her breath, choosing to focus on the sound of Paris shuffling through her pencil case, in search of an eraser for her friend. 

“No, sorry B,” Paris sighed, “Jake, do you have eraser Brooke can use?”

“Of course. I’m always prepared for the beautiful Brooke,” Jake said slyly, clearly flirting, as he handed Brooke the eraser. 

“Thanks, dipshit,” Brooke chuckled as she grabbed the item from his hands. 

Sunny listened as Brooke slowly caressed the eraser over her paper. Sunny refused to turn around and watch, but she could tell Brooke was watching her. She could feel her eyes staring at the back of her neck, and it made Sunny’s skin crawl. 

She heard Brooke place the eraser down her desk and let out a long yawn, that possessed quite a long moan by the end. 

Sunny snapped her eyes shut and squeezed her own pencil, hardly. She refused to let any of this drive her crazy. She was determined to be in control of her own fucking feelings, for once. 

She inwardly cursed Brooke and her stupid, beautiful face. 

The little seductress knew exactly what she was doing. It was like she was punishing Sunny for ignoring her, in the best way she knew how. 

And Sunny hated how her own body was responding. It wasn’t supposed to be effected at all. Sunny had told it that, repeatedly, and yet here she was. Trying to keep herself from jumping on the other girl. 

“I’ll see you all tomorrow!” a voice said, breaking into Sunny’s thoughts.

Sunny opened her eyes and immediately looked around the room to see her classmates gathering their things and slowly clearing out the room. 

She snapped her head up to look at the clock, realizing it was the end of the school day. 

“Alright so, I’m thinking we ditch the assembly tomorrow morning and go get coffee and cinnamon treats from Starbucks,” Frankie’s voice boasted to his friends. 

Sunny reluctantly turned around to face the others, still attempting to avoid all interaction with Brooke. 

“Frankie, why are you so interested in going to Starbucks all of a sudden?” Sunny asked with an eyebrow raised, “you’ve been trying to get us all to go there for over a week now.”

“It’s because he wants to see James,” Jake explained, “he says he smiled at him once when he gave him his blueberry donut and swears he’s in love with him.”

“Quit trying to make me seem like I’m the delusional one here!” Frankie scoffed, “you’re just jealous that he didn’t notice you! Although, then again, who would notice you when there’s gorgeous me to look at, instead.”

“You’re so dramatic, Frankie,” Paris sighed, smiling. 

“Despite his reasons, I like Frankie’s idea,” Brooke added, rising from her seat and walking over til she was standing right near Sunny’s desk, “Starbucks it is.”

“I agree,” Paris said, “it’s been a while since I’ve had a good frappe. Plus, I hear coffee is good for your skin.”

“Where did you hear that?” Jake asked, curiously. 

“From a super credible website called “I need an excuse to break my diet and drink coffee, so I’ll make up a random fact to make myself feel better about it”,” Paris chuckled. 

“Ah Paris, I don’t know why you’re even trying to diet in the first place,” Brooke compliment with a smile, “you look lovely, already.”

Paris blushed and winked at Brooke, which caused the other girl to smirk in reply. 

Sunny’s scowled at the two girls, but hid it behind the sleeve of her hoodie. Once again, she knew what Brooke was trying to do, and she refused to let her win. 

“Well you all have fun, tomorrow,” Sunny said, standing up quickly, after she’d collected herself, “My siblings and I have things to do together, tomorrow morning.”

“What things?” Brooke asked possessing an innocent tone, although not so innocent intentions. 

“Probably some secret Baudelaire business they can’t tell us about,” Jake snorted, before Sunny could reply. For once, she was thankful for his obnoxiousness. 

“It’s nothing bad. We just have to take care of some things. That’s all,” Sunny added, making her way out the classroom door, quickly, trying to avoid anymore interaction with Brooke. 

Sunny rounded the corner, picking up her pace, until she felt herself stumble, realizing she’d bumped into someone. 

“Jeez, what’s got you in such a hurry that you need to run over your own sister?” Beatrice huffed. 

“Sorry, Bea,” Sunny mumbled, glancing over her shoulder to see if the others had followed. 

“What are you running from this time?” Beatrice questioned with a sigh after noticing her sister’s discomfort. 

“Hi Beatrice,” Brooke’s voice flowed, right into Sunny’s ear, causing her to jerk in surprise. 

“Ahhhh I see,” Beatrice chuckled, eyeing each girl. 

Sunny narrowed her eyes at Beatrice, who simply gave her an innocent smile in return. Sunny was well aware that Beatrice knew of the situation between the two girls. It wasn’t like Sunny had, particularly, tried to hide it from her, especially not all those months ago. 

But she also knew the kind of person Beatrice was and she couldn’t afford Violet, or anyone else, finding out information they didn’t need to know about Sunny’s endeavors. 

“Hello Brooke, how are you on this fine afternoon?” Beatrice asked overly politely, which received another scowl from Sunny. 

“I’m doing wonderful,” Brooke replied, in the same playful tone, “how about yourself?”

Sunny noted that Brooke’s voice seemed to get louder in her ear, as if she were slowly coming closer and closer to Sunny. 

“I’m doing just splendid,” Beatrice continued to joke. 

“Mmm good,” Brooke’s voice sounded like no more than a whisper in Sunny’s ear, her breath tickling the hair on her neck. 

“Breathe in, breathe out” Sunny silently reminded herself. Don’t let it affect you. 

Beatrice’s phone buzzed in that instant, relieving Sunny from some of the tension that’d built up. 

“That was Violet,” Bea said, her tone flat, “she said we’re going to have to walk home.”

“Oh great,” Sunny huffed.

“The girl is probably high out of her mind,” Bea sighed.

“Oh, well,” Sunny said quickly, clearing trying to get out of the situation as fast as she could.

“I would offer to walk with you,” Brooke began, “but I’ve been getting the vibes that say I’m not welcome.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sunny mumbled, grabbing Bea’s hand and attempting to pull her toward the entrance of the school.  
“Of course you don’t,” Brooke scoffed, under her breath, “excuse me for thinking it’s odd when my best friend of 9 years starts distancing herself from me slowly.”

“I’m not distancing myself, Brooke,” Sunny said as she walked, still not turning around to face the girl.

“Then what are you doing?” Brooke asked, sighing, “because it’s obvious to me when I barely see you anymore, when several weeks ago we were spent everyday together, like we usually do.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Sunny replied, picking up her pace, “I’m just...busy, that’s all.”

“Busy with what?” Brooke asked, exasperatedly.

“Why do I have to tell you?!,” Sunny snapped, finally turning around, but still avoiding eye contact with the other girl, “you’re not my g-!”

Sunny stopped herself, looking away and biting the inside of her cheek. She let out a sigh and tried to stutter out a response.

“I never said I was,” Brooke replied simply, looking away from Sunny also. The girl reached up and brushed a piece of hair away from Sunny’s face, “I’m here, whenever you figure yourself out. See you around, Bea.”

Bea waved towards Brooke as she turned and walked back into the school building. A smirk formed on the younger girl’s face as she looked up at her sister. Sunny looked off into the direction of their house, blinking a couple times before taking off.

“So, I was thinking I could make cheese lasagna for dinner,” Sunny began.

Bea chuckled.

“So, we’re not gonna talk about what just happened?” Bea asked, eyebrow raised.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Sunny said, adding a small laugh to try and appear casual, but sounding more nervous.

“Right,” Bea laughed, “nothing at all. That definitely wasn’t awkward.”

“Just don’t worry about it, Bea,” Sunny sighed, “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Everything’s normal.”

“You have an odd version of normal,” Bea chuckled.  
Sunny rolled her eyes and walked a little faster, hoping to get Beatrice to forget the conversation.

“Well, on the bright side, now I can sleep at night without listening to the sounds of you and Brooke “wrestling”,” Beatrice snickered, under her breath although loud enough for her sister to hear.

“Bea!” Sunny shouted, reaching out to grab the snickering girl.

Beatrice laughed, dodging her sisters’ attempt and running off down the street.


	3. Falling Down Like Dominoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter where she ran, she’d be running into danger.

Violet felt the smoke travel smoothly into her lungs. She tried her best to block out all thoughts, focusing on her breathing. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to keep her mind from drifting to the events from the previous day. 

She hadn’t recognized the old woman, whatsoever. She hadn’t even realized the woman was there at first. Usually, Violet could detect when danger was near. Most likely a result from that long year running from Olaf, Violet had an inner radar that detected when she and her siblings were in the presence of someone who didn’t quite seem noble. Even with the addition of the drugs, Violet’s sense, usually, stayed sharp. 

She and her siblings had come across many not-so-noble people in their day. It wasn’t until after all the chaos from Olaf had settled, and they’d returned from the island, that they realized how “popular” they’d become within both sides of the organization. This popularity wasn’t necessarily good though. Now their names were household ones and they suddenly had quite a long list of enemies. Former associates of Olaf’s would appear often and the siblings would have to hide for several days, maybe even weeks, until it was safe. 

But the woman sitting outside the grocery store hadn’t seemed like any Violet had come across before. She appeared neither wicked nor noble. Upon looking at her, Violet had assumed VFD would be the farthest thing from the woman’s mind. Agents usually weren’t very open about their involvement, especially with the condition it was in now. 

But the woman had spoken of it so easily, taunting Violet and her siblings with pride. 

Violet shuddered at the memory of her cold, snake-like voice. And the words she’d spoken at the end....

“You’re living like dirt and the ones who killed your parents are living like royalty” , the woman had hissed. 

There were many implications that’s could be assumed from her words. 

One was that she, most likely, had known the Baudelaire’s parents. Whether she was their associate, which was unlikely, or their enemy, which was quite a bit more likely, she had known them. Maybe not on a close level, but she had. 

The next was that she knew the identity of the person who was responsible for her parents’ death. It was a question that’d stuck with she and her siblings for the passing decade. They’d avoided speaking directly of the subject and simply wrote it off in their minds that Olaf was responsible. 

Violet was often reminded of their conversation with him on the island. He hadn’t denied the action, but he hadn’t admitted to it either. From all the pride he’d taken in creating misfortunes for the children, she thought he would’ve gladly accepted credit for his work in destroying their home. But alas, he simply left them with another unanswered question. 

She inhaled deeply, allowing more smoke to travel into her lungs and the light buzz to her head. 

The thoughts of Olaf caused her to shutter, triggering her to take another hit in order to calm her nerves. 

Every time she closed her eyes, she could still the eyes looking down on her through the window of the store. She’d finally gotten to the point where she was able to sleep at night without dreams of running from those same eyes and hearing his distinct chuckle radiate through her mind. 

And now, here was a new batch of nightmares. 

Violet buried her face in her hands, letting out a strangled breath that caused her to sound as if she were wheezing. 

Wheezing. 

The same thing Olaf had been doing the moment they rediscovered him on the island. He’d been wheezing from the mushrooms filling up his airway, and he’d been content to stay that. Only after they’d convinced him to assist Kit did he accept their offer of clearing his closing airways. 

Violet snapped her eyes shut, quickly, shifting her racing memories over to shoveling up sand for his grave. 

She’d buried him. She was sure of it. Klaus and Sunny were witnesses. 

The man was dead, goddamnit. 

At least that’s what she believed. Yes, it is possible that she’s could’ve belong to someone else. But Olaf’s eyes were VERY distinct. She hadn’t met anyone with his distinct eyes before encountering him, and had yet to come across anyone with them since his passing. 

His eyes were a sharp and odd shade of green, like those of beetle, and actually seemed to glow in the dark somewhat. 

Never had Violet been met with such characteristics in her life. All other green-eyed individuals had the usual, calming dashes of brown tint sprinkled in them, and not one person she’d met had eyes that were quite so luminous. 

She supposed his eyes could be a familial thing, but from what she knew, he had none. His parents were dead and no one in their right mind would ever choose to repopulate with such an awful man. 

“Ugh, Jess, the television keeps fading out!” The voice, from the woman sitting next to Violet, boomed. 

“Have you tried moving the antenna?” Jess sighed, shuffling into the small room. 

“Of course I’ve tried that! What kind of idiot wouldn’t?” The woman lied, Violet knowing because she hadn’t felt the woman get up from the couch. 

Jess walked over to the small television, flicking one side of the antenna with her finger, causing the picture on the screen to become as clear as the sky. 

“Right. Of course you tried it, Nell,” Jess teased, throwing a pillow at the woman. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Nell mumbled. 

“Hey Violet?” another woman, who’s voice was small and light like that of a child, called, “what was it like having one of those big, cool flat-screen things?”

“What do you mean, Bunnie?” Violet asked, a smile creeping onto her face due to the cuteness of the younger lady. 

“Back when you lived with you’re parents and you guys were all rich and stuff,” Bunnie continued, her excitement clear in her speech, “What was it like having a BIG TV! You know? The kind without the antenna and that cool cable thing!”

Violet chuckled at the woman, a combination of the woman’s amazement and Violet’s increasing high state. 

“We didn’t have a TV in my house, at least not a big one,” Violet explained, “those weren’t quite a thing yet, and my family wasn’t really big on viewing television. We had a fantastically large library, though.”

“Ah yes, how could we forget,” Nell teased, “only prodigies allowed in the Baudelaire household.”

“It wasn’t like that, Nell,” Violet sighed, smiling, “we just preferred to occupy our time with other activities, that’s all.”

“Sure,” Nell chuckled, taking a long pause before asking “do you think you’d still be doing those things if you’d gotten your fortune money?”

Violet looked down in her lap, thinking for a moment. It was already quite frustrating enough, but not completely unexpected that, when Violet came of age, not a penny of the Baudelaire fortune came into their possession. 

Life had already been difficult before hand, financially speaking. Violet was only 16 years old when they’d left the island and, being under 18 and having no type of high school diploma, it was quite difficult for her to find any kind of good employment. 

She’d tried to finish her years of high school, initially. But with her short hours and limited days, it turned out to be barely enough to feed the 4 of them, and Klaus couldn’t legally be in anything more than a part time job at Chick fil A, which wasn’t helping much. 

So Violet had been forced to drop out, barely getting her GED, in order to help take care of the others. However, job circumstances only got worse, especially once she found out that her boss had been an associate of Count Olaf’s, and was purposely docking her payments each month. 

After a long chase away from her job, and into a nearby alley in order to escape, Violet was free from the danger of the ex-villain, but now left with no income for her family. 

She’d been incredibly dehydrated, from all the running, and had stumbled into the nearest building she could in search of water. 

Which happened to be the same building she was sitting in currently...nine years later. 

The brothel was oddly large, and had been opened quite a long time. Since it’s entrance faced the alley, and not the main roads, it’d been easier to hide its existence from any authorities. 

It was definitely last on Violet’s options, but at the time, she’d been tired of running and fighting to survive. 

So after having burnt down a hotel, leaving her old friends in the hands of Count Olaf, and many other questionable decisions...she made the most questionable decision of her life. 

And now she was a prostitute. 

She’d shaken hands with the demon himself, as she liked to reserve the term devil for Olaf, and sold her soul to the wishes and pleasures of other men. 

“V-Violet?” Bunnie’s small voice asked, laced with concern. 

“Oh sorry,” Violet answered, breaking from her train of thought that she realized she’d slipped into. 

“You’re so weird, Vi,” Jess chuckled from her spot on the floor, “but we love you, anyways.”

“Yeah! Vi, do you think, if you’d gotten your money, you’d invite us to you’re mansion?!” Bunnie asked excitedly. 

“I’m not sure if I would’ve known you if I did,” Violet giggled, brushing the younger woman’s hair, “but of course I would.”

“Yay!” Bunnie cheered. 

“Why are you cheering, Bunnie?” Nell sighed, exasperatedly, “Violet doesn’t have a mansion. She’s as poor as the rest of us.”

“Well yeah, but, it’s nice to know that we could’ve gone if she had one!” Bunnie explained, happily. 

“It sure is, Bunnie,” Jess encouraged with a chuckle, eyeing Nell playfully, “you should appreciate her sense of imagination and hope, Nell.”

Nell glared over at Bunnie, who pinched her own cheeks and put on her biggest smile for the more cynical woman. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Nell grumbled. 

Violet giggled at the action of her coworkers. 

“You should lay off the drugs, Baudelaire,” Nell teased. 

The door to the small room, suddenly, bursted open, revealing the tall, skinny man standing in the doorway. 

Violet felt herself frown and immediately directed her attention to the television. Her friends had gone quiet, beginning to fidget and shift in their seats, and she could feel the building tension in the room. 

“Don’t tell me I killed the party,” the man chuckled, in his usual nasally voice. 

Violet reflexively narrowed her eyes, although not meeting his gaze to do so. 

“You guys were talking about me, weren’t you?” The man asked, attempting to tease them, although it came across as mockery. 

It didn’t surprise Violet. Mockery definitely wasn’t out of his character. 

She kept her eyes forward, hoping he wouldn’t take notice of her and simply leave the room. Although, knowing G-Go, that was unlikely. 

G-Go was the one who kept the place organized and up and running. He was the one that did the undercover business that they were never let in on, and did his best to “attract customers”. 

He was the one driving Lamborghinis, while the girls all struggled to pay rent or find food. 

Violet never knew why anyone called him G-Go, since it was far from his real name, Beauregard Feint. She’d convinced herself, after much speculation, that it must’ve been an ego thing. Something that all pimps had, especially the unattractive ones like himself. 

Violet’s hopes were crushed, sadly, as she watched G-Go approach her from the corner of her eye. 

She snapped her eyes up to glare into his and saw their usual gleam. 

“Someone’s feisty, i see,” He snickered, “I like it.”

“What do you want, G-Go?” Violet asked sharply, wanting to clearly convey her distaste for the man. 

“Oh, calm down dear. I’m not here to annoy you. That comes later,” he answered, “I’m here because I need you to run an errand for me.”

“What kind of errand?” Violet asked, although she knew she’d have to complete it no matter what it was. 

“Just a little...drop off, if you know what I mean,” The man replied, smirking. 

Violet let out a sigh of frustration. She stood up and held out her hand, waiting for him to place the item in it. 

“There’s my girl,” G-Go replied proudly, placing a medium sized box in the Baudelaire girl’s hands. 

Violet simply rolled her eyes, saying a quick farewell to her three friends, before heading out of the building and into the dusty street. 

As she walked, memories from the previous day continued to flood her mind. Something felt off to her...about the whole situation. 

She and her siblings were forced to go in to “hiding” of sorts, to avoid any attention from either side of VFD, although not many agents remained. However, the woman still seemed odd compared to all the others Violet had come across in her lifetime, noble or wicked. 

The woman had looked at Violet as if she knew more than just the infamous Baudelaire girl who’d “destroyed” the organization, according to the new VFD “lore”. 

She looked at Violet as if she knew her. 

Violet was snapped out of her thoughts as she rounded the corner, arriving at the destination G-Go had written atop the box. 

She climbed the few stairs, opening the door to the building, and finding herself in a small lobby. 

She was quite surprised that G-Go would have any connection in this place. Even though it wasn’t the fanciest, it looked more professional than anything Violet had seen him work with in the past. 

She awkwardly walked up to the front desk, where a young blonde woman sat, staring blankly at a newspaper. She didn’t even seem to notice Violet standing above her. 

The eldest Baudelaire cleared her throat, quite cautiously as she had taken notice of the woman’s odd behavior. 

The woman’s expression didn’t change as she stared up at the girl. 

“Is this from G-Go?” The woman asked, her voice flat. 

Violet blinked in surprise. No one ever spoke openly, or quite as loudly, about G-Go. Most of his activities were illegal, and his associates knew just as well as him the dangers of being caught. 

“Um, y-yes,” Violet stuttered, clearly taken aback. 

“Take it down that hallway,” the woman said, pointing to a long white hallway, although never breaking eye contact with Violet. 

“Okay,” Violet said slowly, continuing to keep eye contact with the woman as she headed towards the hall. 

She felt herself shudder as she walked down the long corridor. Why was the woman so...creepy?

The longer Violet walked, the more she felt like she was being deceived. She continued down the path, but from what she could see, there wasn’t anything. No matter which turns she took or where they lead, there was nothing down the hall except for some decorative tables and plants. 

No doors, no other rooms, no nothing. 

“Probably sent me all this way just to mess with me,” Violet mumbled to herself. 

And then she heard it. 

Violet stopped in her tracks, listening as hard as she could. The sound coming from in front of her, just around the corner. 

The sounds of sobs. 

Violet glided, quickly, in the direction of the noises. She peaked her head around, her eyes landing on the small figure of a middle aged woman, sitting on the ground, huddled in a corner shedding tears and whispering incomprehensible things to herself. 

“M-Ma’am, are you alright?” Violet asked, loud enough to be heard, but quite enough as not to startle the woman. 

The woman continued to sob, as if she hadn’t heard Violet at all. 

“Hello? Are you okay?” Violet said, approaching the woman.

The woman quieted her sobs, ever so slightly, letting out an exasperated sigh. 

“Do you need some help?” Violet asked again, coming closer to the woman slowly. 

“Oh it’s all ruined. It’s all wrong. Everything’s gone!” The woman sobbed, clearly addressing Violet although she had yet to look up at her. 

“Do you want someone to talk to?” Violet offered kindly. 

“No, it’s fine dear. I’m alright, just devastated,” the woman whimpered. 

“I know exactly how you feel,” Violet answered honestly, having almost made her way over to the woman. 

“Yes I know I’ve heard it all before about how everyone goes through struggles,” the woman cried, “but I-“

The woman stopped, mid sentence, after having looked up into Violet’s eyes. 

Violet smiled sweetly at the woman, at first, but her expression dropped quickly as she saw that of the woman. 

The woman’s face seemed to go through many emotions. First shock, the anger, then mania. 

The woman’s eyes and lips began to twitch, small sounds coming from her mouth. Violet began backing up slowly, something immediately noticed by the woman. 

The sobbing lady stood up abruptly, reaching behind her and grabbing an item that Violet didn’t recognize at first, and charged towards the girl. 

“DIE BEATRICE!” The woman shouted, swinging at Violet with what she could now see was a large metal bat. 

Violet’s eyes widened, dodging the woman’s first attempt to hit her, and she ran off in the other direction, dropping the box in the process. 

The girl random down the hallway, although she could hear the other woman following her, and was forced to slow her movements to avoid being hit. 

The woman reached her leg underneath Violet’s, causing the girl to fall on her back. 

Violet managed to look up into the woman’s eyes once more, although not for long

“DIE BEATRICE!” She shouted again, taking another swing at Violet, who barely dodged the attempt. 

Violet stumbled to her feet, having to duck to miss being hit in the head, and continued to dodge the woman’s swings as she back toward a corner. 

“I’m not Beatrice!” Violet cried, trying to appeal to the woman. 

The woman heard the girl, but it didn’t seem to register in her mind. Violet had seen the woman was still crying, hard, when she’d seen her eyes. 

“You know what you did!” The woman shouted, taking another swing at Violet. 

“I’m not Beatrice!” Violet said frantically, realizing she was almost backed into a corner. 

“Oh, you think you can fool me,” the woman chuckled through her sobs, sounding insane, “just like you fooled me all those years ago. Well not anymore. I’m not fucking stupid!”

The woman swung, the bat landing in between Violet’s legs as she reached the end of the corner. 

The only other way was another dead end on the hallway to her left, and then there’d be no hope. 

“Please don’t!” Violet shouted holding her arms up in fear. 

The woman looked at Violet, a deranged smile plastered on her face. She held out her arms toward the fearful girl. 

“Oh I’m so sorry, Beatrice. How un-noble of me. Here, give me a hug like you gave me that day,” the woman panted, her voice cracking and she stared crazily at Violet. 

Violet stood up, ever so slowly. She made her way over to the woman, taking careful steps. 

“O-Okay, i’ll hug you,” Violet said with a shaking voice. She tried appealing to the woman’s wishes to ensure her safety, “but first, just give me the bat.”

Surprisingly, the woman gave Violet the bat quickly. Violet took it and placed it over in the corner where she’d been sitting. 

She was steps away from hugging the woman, when the lady reached quickly into her back pocket and pulled out a revolver. 

“REMEMBER THIS?!” The woman shouted, aiming it at Violet, who’d begun backing down the last hallway. 

“Looks familiar doesn’t it?! It’s the same one you used!” The woman yelled, her face contorting into one of rage and her hands shaking. 

“NO! Look, please! I’m not-“ Violet tried to reason, trembling as she continued to back away. 

“And now look at you!” The woman shouted, “at the mercy of the same weapon!” 

Violet felt her vision fog, and she realized tears had formed in her eyes. She blinked them away, after having given up hope of escaping the situation alive, until she looked and saw a miracle. 

A window. 

A soft light was coming through the very end of the hallway from a window placed on one of the side walls. 

There were many problems, though. 

One, Violet had climbed several stairs to enter the building, so she’d be falling a great deal if she jumped out of it. 

Two, she doubted she had time to just open it and jump. The woman would easily be aware of her attempt and simply shoot her in the process. 

Her only option, that might be somewhat fruitful, would be to jump through it, breaking the glass. 

She looked over, seeing the woman begun the press down on the trigger, and decided she had no choice. 

She ran a short distance down to where the window was and used all the force she could with her body, breaking the glass and flailing as she began to fall. 

Even though she wasn’t as high up as she expected, time seemed to slow down and it felt as if she was falling forever. 

“Ah!” She cried out in pain, landing roughly on her arm. 

She wanted to lie there in agony a little longer, but remembered why she’d had to jump in the first place. 

She stumbled to her feet, clutching her injured arm, and began to run away. 

She looked up and saw the woman looking down on her from the window, not making any moves to point the gun, but simply laughing at her. Laughing like the old woman and the eyes of Count Olaf had been the day before. 

“Oh yes, run now! But you won’t be running for long,” the woman called down, cackling, “Nataja is going to get you!”

Violet continued to run, aware that the woman was shouting other things, but she was now out of earshot of hearing anything. 

She just ran. Ran away from the woman, away from building, and away from safety. 

No matter where she ran, she’d be running into danger. 

Just like all those years ago.


	4. Hit By Family Jewels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! I’ve started classes at my university again, so my updates will continue to be slower and more spaced out, but they will definitely keep coming.

“For once, i will swallow my pride and agree with Violet that this is probably serious,” Bea sighed, shoveling a forkful of her tasteless meatloaf into her mouth. 

“It’s just so weird, though, Bea,” Sunny said, “G-Go was the one who sent her to that building in the first place, but Violet said she doesn’t think he knows about VFD at all.”

“He’s probably a volunteer,” Bea mumbled, “they’re always lying.”

“Yes, Bea I’m very much aware of your hatred of the fire fighting side,” Sunny said with a light chuckle, “but we need to look at the bigger picture here.”

“My hatred for the volunteers is justified in this situation!” Bea exclaimed, “Violet said the woman who chased her was shouting “die Beatrice”, talking about you guys’ mother. The woman infamous for doing awful things and trying to justify them with some bigger moral purpose, or whatever.”

“Look, we know she did do some awful things, but that doesn’t mean that’s all she did,” Sunny argued calmly. 

“She did enough,” Beatrice retorted, rolling her eyes, “she stole the sugar bowl from that Esme lady and she killed Count Olaf’s parents.”

“I know, Bea,” Sunny mumbled in agreement. 

“All I’m saying is, she definitely had the opportunity to make a lot of enemies,” Bea continued, “and now Violet, and maybe the rest of us, are starting to pay for whatever fucked up things she did.”

“Yeah, which is all kinds of not good,” Sunny sighed, “but it’s strange. Violet said the woman was crying before and after she attacked her. I know my mom would’ve had enemies in everyone from the villainous side of VFD-“

“The smart side of VFD you mean,” Beatrice cut in, with a smirk. 

“Anyways,” Sunny continued, shooting her sister an annoyed glare, “but, the way Violet described the woman, she didn’t seem all that villainous. She seemed...hurt.”

“Well duh!” Beatrice snickered, “if she was a volunteer, she was bound to end up hurt or betrayed at some point. That’s what they do. They do whatever they can for the “greater good”, no matter if they have to hurt their own people.”

“Bea I know you’re mad, but-“ Sunny began. 

“Of course I’m mad! Now I’m in the middle of all of this, because of YOUR mother doing her usual awful volunteer things.” Beatrice huffed. 

“Your mother was a volunteer too, Bea,” Sunny argued, “who’s to say Kit hasn’t done the same things. We know for a fact that she helped kill Olaf’s parents, too.”

“Probably because Beatrice made her!” Bea defended, “you said Olaf kissed her before they both died. That means they were together at some point. They were, you know, in love and stuff. She wouldn’t have just killed his parents without some serious convincing from someone.”

“How would you know that?” Sunny retorted. 

“If she’s really my mother, she wouldn’t,” Bea huffed. 

“She seemed fine when she mentioned that she delivered those poison darts to our mother,” Sunny said. 

Beatrice narrowed her eyes at her older sister. She refused to let her make her mother out to be like the rest of the airhead volunteers. Learning that her mother had once been involved with Count Olaf had been the best thing she’d ever learned about her. It gave her a glimmer of hope that her mother might not have been the angelic and perfect volunteer everyone made her out to be. For the first time, Bea felt like she actually had more in common with the woman, besides looks. 

“Well Sunny, you of all people should know people can seem to be quite fine and interested in something in the moment,” Bea said, an innocent smile appearing on her face and her eyes gaining a dark glint. 

Sunny’s eyes involuntarily met her sister’s, who’s expression made it clear she expected a reaction from Sunny. 

“On the contrary, dear sister,” Sunny replied calmly and kindly, although she said it through gritted teeth, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really?” The younger girl asked, faking a shocked expression, “well let me remind you-“

“Oh that’s quite alright, no need to do that,” Sunny interrupted. 

“Oh?...but i insist,” Bea continued. 

“Just as I insist that you mustn’t,” Sunny retorted, her tone had changed to a dark one, but her false smile hadn’t faltered.

Beatrice instinctively raised an eyebrow, allowing the corner of her mouth to curl up into a smirk. 

“You insist that I mustn’t remind you about what, again?” Beatrice asked. 

“Nice try, Snicket,” Sunny snorted, “but I’m not going to slip that easily.”

“Fair play, Baudelaire,” Bea challenged, “I don’t know why I even attempted to win, since we both are very aware that you know quite a bit about slipping things.”

The young girl’s words caused Sunny, who’d began to take a sip of her milk while eyeing the other girl, as a sign of victory, to choke on her beverage. 

Beatrice let out a mocking chuckle, loud enough that it caught the attention of others a nearby tables. 

“Look here, you little brat. I don’t have time for this,” Sunny snapped, after she’d recovered from her fit of coughs, “We’re not talking about this. I mean, there isn’t even anything to talk about.”

“Ah Sunny,” Beatrice sighed, “It’s sad. I can honestly say I haven’t known anyone to be in as much denial as you’re currently in.”

“I’m not in denial about anything,” Sunny grumbled, taking a sip of her beverage carefully this time. 

“Really?” Beatrice asked, faking confusion, “I could’ve sworn most people don’t randomly ignore people they’ve known for 9 years when they AREN’T in denial.”

“Like I said before,” Sunny continued, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not ignoring anyone and I’m not in denial.” 

“Oh dear, we’ve reached a new level,” Beatrice chuckled, massaging her temples, “a level where the denial itself is being denied, as well as the thing you’re in denial about. It hurts my brain even trying to explain it. This is some meta stuff, right here.”

“Bea, I swear-“

“I’m serious, Sunny,” Bea interjected with a smirk, “when are you gonna actually stop lying to yourself, be a man, admit some things to yourself, and fucking address this whole mess.”

“There is no mess,” Sunny emphasized, reciting her words slowly. 

“I’d ask my question again, as it wasn’t technically answered, but your response just then was enough to let me know that I’ll probably be dealing with this for quite a while,” Bea sighed. 

“If I just say “I don’t know”, can we drop this and talk about something else?” Sunny huffed, clearly frustrated and not in any mood to entertain her sister’s accusation. 

“Sure,” Bea sighed, “it wasn’t like we were getting anywhere with the conversation anyway.”

“Thank you,” Sunny retorted, triumphantly taking a bite of her pizza slice. 

However, even though it was out of her nor Beatrice’s control, Sunny had once again celebrated prematurely. 

The bouncy figure of a blonde girl, a little older than them both, made its way over to the small table where the girls sat. 

“Hello ladies,” the girl spoke, her voice possessing its usual high pitch and nasal sound, as she clutched a clipboard, tightly, in her hands. 

Beatrice could’ve laughed then and there, causing her to have to bite her cheek in order to contain her snickers. 

“Hi Wendy,” Bea greeted, a small giggle escaping as soon as she spoke. 

Sunny didn’t say anything, instead forcefully directing her eyes down to her lunch tray, suddenly finding her bland food to be quite interesting. 

A small smirk creeped its way onto Bea’s face as she watched her sister’s clear discomfort and panic. Wendy, although a somewhat sweet girl, was quite popular and therefore quite willing to show off her body at any chance she got. 

And much to Bea’s amusement, that chance was now. Wendy’s purple top was tight and looked as if it could’ve been a halter top on anyone else taller than the girl. But the top itself also showed quite a bit of cleavage, which seemed to be the main thing stressing the Baudelaire girl. 

Sunny’s heart rate had sped up as well as her breathing, as she tried to look anywhere but at Wendy. She forced her eyes away and bit into her lip hardly. 

“I’m conducting a poll on everyone who has last lunch to see if they’re satisfied with the condition of the food we receive,” Wendy explain chipperly. 

“Oh wow Wendy, look at you,” Bea complimented, while still monitoring Sunny’s actions from the corner of her eye, “this is new. You actually caring about the student body.”

“Ugh, I don’t,” the blonde girl huffed, “it’s just some bullshit I have to do for my dumb college application, since I’m trying to get into the same school as Freddie.”

The older girl, being fond of gestures, had done quite a bit of moving as she spoke, causing her breasts to do some moving of their own. 

Bea let out a strangled cough in an attempt to mask a laugh that had come to the surface. She could still see Sunny out of the corner of her eye. The Baudelaire girl had squeezed her eyes shut and began frantically moving her right leg around under the table, causing her body to bounce slightly, as she tried to distract herself. 

“Well I think the cafeteria is awful for leaving the food out all day, letting it get stale and old, and still serving it to us after,” Bea began, planning out her words carefully, “and I’m glad you asked me about this Wendy, because I’ve actually addressed this very concern to our administration. They told me, and everyone else who complained, not to tell anyone, especially if one of the overseers from the state comes by, but they didn’t make any effort to ADDRESS the issue itself. And as you and I both know, suppressing the issue only makes things worse. All it’s going to do is cause it to build up, getting stronger and stronger, until it gets to a point where you just can’t ignore it anymore. Everything ruptures and you just can’t control it anymore. And THAT will be the thing that causes you to do somethings you might not usually do...somethings you might...regret.”

Bea had purposely allowed her voice to become lower and raspier as she continued to speak, knowing Wendy would be too oblivious to notice a difference, but that the person she was really addressing would hear and, more importantly, feel every last word. 

And she had. 

From the corner of her eye, she’d watched Sunny dig her fingers, more and more, into the sleeve of her hoodie and continue to bite into her lip. Her breathing quickened even more, and the leg she was moving began kicking even faster. 

Up until the last word, where her head turned further away from Bea and Wendy and she’d let out a strangled sound, which could’ve been a moan or a grunt or a growl. Bea didn’t know for sure which one, but to her it signaled her victory. 

She smirked and turned back to Wendy, who was furiously writing down the words Bea had said. 

“Thanks Bea,” Wendy chuckled, “You even added all that extra stuff, which will look fantastic on my application. You really know how to help a girl out.”

“Nice,” Sunny voiced said, sounding low and tired suddenly. 

Bea turned to look directly at her sister, who was now facing Wendy and looking...right where Bea expected her to be. 

“What was that Sunny?” Wendy asked innocently.

“Oh, I was just agreeing with you,” Sunny said, pulling her eyes up to look the girl in the eye, “What Bea said was nice.”

“Oh, yeah I know right,” Wendy laughed, “thanks bitches, you’ve helped a lot. I’ll see you around.”

The blonde girl took off in the direction of another table, presumably the one with Freddie, and Bea turned back to face her sister. 

Sunny seemed to be unfazed, continuing to take bites out of her pizza. 

“You ready to talk about it now?” Bea asked, eyebrow raised. 

“Nope,” Sunny said simply, “because I still have no idea what you’re talking about, since there’s nothing for us to discuss.”

“Goddamnit Sunny, are you serious right now?” Bea sighed, rubbing her temples once more. 

“Do I sound like I’m joking?” Sunny responded with another question. 

“Ugh,” Bea huffed, drooping her head into her arms, “you are so difficult.”

“Thank you,” Sunny replied. 

“I see you two survived hurricane Wendy,” a voice chuckled, as it approached them. 

“Hey Jeanette,” Sunny greeted. 

“Aren’t you friends with Wendy?” Bea asked, snorting. 

“Yes, which means I know better than anyone how much of a mess she is,” Jeanette replied, “applying to colleges just so she can be close to a boy she isn’t even dating.”

Jeanette was quite different from the rest of her friends. Bea and Sunny had learned this quite early on after they’d met the girl. She dressed quite modestly, wearing clothes that resembled a school uniform, even though they didn’t have one, and looked more like she spent time in a library than with the cheerleaders. Her brown hair was always down and she chose to wear thick rimmed black glasses, instead of the preferred contacts. 

But it took less than 10 minutes for Bea and Sunny to figure out why she had the friends she did. 

The girl was daring. 

She’d told the principal to her face that she was terrible at her job, she’d put laxatives in her math teacher’s coffee after he’d called her an idiot, and she’d even drained the gas from the guidance counselor’s car. 

And, of course, these actions had caught the attention of the school’s elite, and they’d eagerly accepted her into their inner circle. 

“I would judge her,” Bea replied, “but it sounds like something I would do too.”

“Not that I myself care much about college,” Jeanette added, taking a seat next to Sunny and across from Bea, “despite the introverted librarian look I posses, which I get from my mother, I couldn’t honestly give less of a shit about universities. But I do know that, for people who do want to go, they shouldn’t pick where to go just based on if someone they know is going there...especially if they barely even SPEAK to said person.”

“This is Wendy we’re talking about, Jean,” said Sunny, “I don’t know why you’re so stressed over it. This seems like the kind of thing she does all the time.”

“You’ve definitely got a point there,” Jeanette agreed, grabbing a fry from Sunny’s tray and popping it into her mouth. 

“Jean, do you think you can get us some of those nice take out boxes from the Seniors lounge?” Bea asked, batting her eyes and smiling, “Violet’s kinda low on cash this month, and we could really use this extra food. Plus, they come with doughnuts.”

“Low on cash? Who knew prostitution went through recessions,” Jeanette snorted. 

“Yeah, you’d think there’d never be an end to men’s hormones,” Sunny agreed, rolling her eyes. 

“Wait...didn’t your sister get attacked recently, or something?” Jeanette added suddenly, her eyes appearing distant as if she was recalling where she’d learned the information. 

“Yeah...how did you hear about it?” Bea questioned. 

“I was in the principals office, again,” Jeanette said, with a huff, “and I over heard them talking about it and what a tragedy it was, or whatever.”

“What were you in the office for this time?” Bea asked with a giggle. 

“I may or may not have stolen Mr. Thymes’ car keys,” Jeanette replied, smirking. 

“What is it with you and terrorizing the school staff?” Sunny laughed. 

“Well if they’re all gonna hate me and treat me like garbage, then I might as well share the wealth,” Jeanette replied wittily, “that’s what my father always said.”

“Wise Words,” Bea complimented, with a smirk of her own, “that’s my kind of motto.”

The older girl laughed, adjusting her glasses, before her face fell back into a serious and questioning one. 

“So do you know who attacked her?” She asked. 

“No,” Sunny replied, sighing, “Violet didn’t recognize her, but the woman seemed to think Violet was our mother. She even called her Beatrice.”

Sunny wasn’t sure, but it seemed as if Jeanette face fell into a scowl at the mention of her mother’s name, but quickly returned to normal. 

“She even started screaming “die Beatrice” while she chased her,” Bea added, “it was crazy, and now Violet’s all freaked out.”

“I’d imagine she would be,” Jeanette said, “I know I would if something like that happened to me.”

“I would too,” Sunny agreed, “you see...our parents were connected to this group, which is too complicated for me to try and explain now, but Violet is worried it could be one of them.”

“Well if your parents were part of this group, why would they attack you?” Jeanette questioned, although her gaze had focused on something outside the window. 

“The group isn’t exactly...united,” Sunny explained carefully, “its a long and messy story behind that, but the point is is that it’s got Violet all worked up, and she thinks someone might be after us.”

“The woman who attacked her, you mean?” Jeanette asked, “I wouldn’t be too worried about her. The way you describe her, she seems quite delusional. She doesn’t seem like she’d be the best at tracking people down.”

“Well it’s not exactly the woman who attacked her that she’s worried about,” Sunny sighed, “the woman mentioned another name, someone called “Nataja”, who she swore was going to get us.”

Jeanette’s eyes darted over, looking directly at Sunny, her gaze piercing, before focusing on a small ring around her pinky finger. 

“Sounds...terrifying,” she finally said. 

“Uh yeah it is!” Bea exclaimed in frustration, “people are coming to kill me and I’m not even related to the woman!”

“No Bea, you’re not related my mother,” Sunny retorted, “but you know who you are related to? Kit effing Snicket, and that’s what these wonderfully ladies approaching us are about to remind you of.”

The heads of the three girls snapped up and immediately saw the figures of three women coming toward them. 

Bea rolled her eyes in annoyance. She recognized one as being Ramona, and the other was the school’s data manger, who also happened to be Ramona’s mother. A woman who, unlike Ramona, was mesmerized by Bea’s existence just as any other volunteer would be. Bea didn’t recognize the third woman, but knew she was probably another volunteer coming to gawk at her as if she were some kind of museum exhibit. 

“Hello ladies,” Ramona’s mother, who name was Georgia, greeted cheerily, “I hope you are having a wonderful morning, Ms. Snicket.”

“Oh! You even call her Ms. Snicket! Just like what we used to call Kit,” the third and unfamiliar woman exclaimed, placing a hand over her mouth in awe. 

Bea could see from the corner of her eye that Sunny was doing her best to hold in a laugh, and Jeanette had turned away from the women and had an unreadable expression on her face. 

They sure weren’t going to be of any help. 

“Yeah, that’s uh...how last names work,” Bea said passive aggressively, but maintaining her innocent tone. 

She saw Ramona narrow her eyes at her, which lifted her spirits slightly. 

“Beatrice darling, this is Janice,” Georgia introduced cheerfully, “she knew your mother quite well.”

“Oh yes, Kit and I worked side by side on a small project that lasted about a month,” the Janice woman mused dreamily, “I met her in person and even got to speak to her a couple times.”

“Oh how wonderful!” Bea cheered, pitting on a tone of fake excitement that was easily noticed by anyone who listened hard enough, “nothing says knowing someone well like speaking to them a couple times and never again!”

“Oh, I know, isn’t it wonderful?!” The woman agreed, possessing the same enthusiastic tone and completely missing the sarcasm in Bea’s words. 

Bea watched Ramona shoot the woman a disgusted glare, which went unnoticed, before rolling her eyes. 

“Oh Ramona! Stop that!” Georgia scolded, having seen her daughter’s actions, “please forgive my daughter Janice. She seems to be under the impression that Kit didn’t really do all those wonderful things for our organization.”

Bea was surprised Georgia had even mentioned the organization, since she tended to stray away from mentioning it around students who were unaware of its existence, like Jeanette who was still present at the table, although seemingly upset about something as she appeared to be digging her fingers, quite roughly, into her milk carton. 

“That isn’t what I’m saying mother,” Ramona sighed in frustration, “I’m saying that you all have this distorted memory, which is insane since she didn’t make any effort to conceal anything. I know you all must remember about her-“

“Nonsense!” Georgia scoffed, interrupting her daughter’s complaint, “the nerve of you to insult one of our greatest volunteers. And in front of her daughter!”

Beatrice heard Ramona mumble something so low that she couldn’t make out her words, but Georgia seemed to hear it clearly and seemed quite furious about whatever they were. 

The mother and daughter had somewhat of a stare off. Georgia clearly upset and acting if her daughter’s words were something dangerous, and Ramona seemed to want to conjure a reply from the older woman. 

The two stayed that way for a moment long enough to be slightly awkward for the others surrounding them, before finally breaking their gaze. 

“Beatrice,” Georgia hissed, and Bea quickly realized that she wasn’t attempting to get her attention, but simply addressing whatever her daughter said. 

“Um yes?” The young girl replied anyway, hoping it would shed some light on whatever the two were angry about. 

“Oh nothing dear, I was...speaking on Sunny’s mother,” Georgia replied slowly, “Beatrice Baudelaire the first.”

“Oh, nice,” Sunny replied, awkwardly.

“Another fierce and formidable woman,” Georgia continued, “who was essential to our organization. She and Kit worked together on many things.”

Beatrice’s face fell. 

“I know,” she said darkly, although this wasn’t picked up on by any of the women, except Ramona. 

“Kit always looked out for Beatrice, and Beatrice always gave Kit the best pieces of advice,” Georgia said, her voice getting louder, and Bea became unclear who she was actually talking to. 

Ramona eyes seemed to dart around between all of them, landing constantly in one place for a longer period of time than the others. 

“And, in turn,” Georgia continued, even louder, “right before she passed, Kit made sure to finally bring in a respectable child into this world, with a wonderful man, and gave her a wonderful and appropriate name. Following our wonderful tradition of naming new lives after those of WONDERFUL people who have passed. Especially those who have passed at the actions of not-so-wonderful people.”

Georgia tone had become quite dramatic, as if she were giving a monologue during a play, and Bea had begun to feel the tension between everyone build to an unhealthy amount. She felt as if something big was going to happen by the end of the woman’s speech, but the only thing that occurred was the sudden sound of static come from a walkie talkie connected to Ramona’s hip. 

Everyone in the school’s staff possessed them, for a quick and easy transfer of information. 

Ramona fumbled with the device and Bea noticed that even she appeared to be shaking. 

She spoke a few words into the device and a few more were replied to her. 

“Jeanette, your ride is here,” Ramona spoke finally, possessing a tone that was odd to Bea. 

The senior girl spoke no words of her, simply getting up from her seat next to Sunny, swinging her backpack over her shoulder, and throwing away her trash. 

Bea made note of the still unreadable expression on the girl’s face. It seemed as if it were trying to convey a forbidden emotion.

“Have a good weekend, Jeanette,” Ramona said, with a kind tone and small smile. 

“Leaving before the end of the school day?” Georgia questioned, with a odd tone, “what an expectedly volatile thing.”

“How is that volatile?” Sunny questioned, finally speaking up. 

“Volatile means not noble,” Georgia explained, “not getting one’s education and instead skipping classes is not noble, and therefore volatile.”

“Volatile doesn’t mean “not noble”,” sunny snorted, “Volatile means unstable or unpredictable. Something that’s volatile is just uneasy and could change quickly. And besides, Jeanette doesn’t have any afternoon classes, so that’s why she’s leaving early.”

Ramona’s face curled into a proud smile and Georgia’s fell into somewhat of a scowl. 

From the corner of her eye, Bea could see Jeanette smirking slightly.

“I hope you have a wonderful weekend, Mrs. Dell,” Jeanette said faking kindness, and from her time Bea could tell that she was addressing Georgia and not Ramona, “goodbye Sunny, goodbye Bea!”

“Goodbye Jeanette!” The two girls cheered in unison, waving to their older friend. 

Bea loves Jeanette. Her utter despising of the school’s administration was something she could look up to. 

“Well Ms. Dell, this has been fun,” Bea began, collecting her trash to throw away, “and it was WONDERFUL meeting you Ms. Janice. But Sunny and I really should be going.”

“Oh Beatrice dear, don’t feel pressured by the awful actions of that other girl to go so soon. You, my dear, are always welcome here, to us,” Georgia stressed. 

“Oh I know,” Bea continued, “but as you can see by looking around, lunch ended about ten minutes ago, and I know you’d hate for me and Sunn to do such a volatile thing by missing more education time than we already have.”

Sunny did her best to bite back a laugh as Georgia looked frantically around the room, just noticing that the other students had left quite a bit ago to go to their classes. Bea couldn’t help but smile, seeing that Ramona also found the situation quite amusing. 

“Right, of course,” Georgia mumbled. 

“Have a nice day girls,” Ramona said, stifling a laugh. 

The girls quickly threw their trash away, stealing glances at each other, and waved goodbye to the three women standing in the cafeteria. 

“I hate to agree with you on these things,” Sunny said with a chuckle after the doors to the cafeteria had closed firmly, “but the volunteers are insane sometimes.”

“See, now you’re getting my point,” Bea agreed. 

“Although it did give me a chance to pretend like I knew something, when really I’d just remembered it from what Klaus said,” Sunny said. 

“Yeah I noticed,” Bea replied, “I sure as hell knew you didn’t know that word on your own.”

Sunny stuck her tongue out at her sister, before turning a corner that lead to the school’s back door. 

The two girls paused immediately, both raising an eyebrow at each other. 

“What? You didn’t think we were actually going to class did you?!” Sunny asked, smirking. 

“Of course not,” Bea replied with one of her own, before following behind her sister down the hall and out of the building. 

 

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

Jeanette picked up her pace as she sped down the long twisted hallways of the school, towards the front entrance. 

She kept her breathing slow and even on purpose, as she was still quite furious from her encounter with the Dell woman. 

She let out a sigh as she rounded the last corner, finally reaching the main office which sat right across from the entrance. 

An amused expression made its way onto her face as she watched the woman waiting for her absentmindedly picking the paint off the wall. 

“Picking paint off of the wall!” Jeanette exclaimed, loudly and dramatically, causing the woman to jump in shock, “what an expectedly Volatile thing for you to do!”

The woman snorted and stood up. She was quite a bit taller than Jeanette, as she was to most people, which made her long all-black attire fit her body well...at least with the look she was going for. 

It was the same look she’d had for as long as Jeanette knew her, which was all of her own life. 

“You didn’t even use the word right,” the woman sneered, “it means-“

“I know what it means,” Jeanette interrupted, smiling, holding her hand up to save the woman from any more trouble, “I just thought I’d give you a little taste of the recent words Georgia Dell decided to try and insult me with.”

“Ugh. I can’t believe that old geezers still alive,” the woman scoffed, adjusting her large black hat. 

The woman began to walk, leading Jeanette out to the large van she could see parked in the distance. The woman tucked a strand of her long black hair behind her ear, her green eyes glowing fiercely as she continued to complain of Georgia Dell’s antics.

“But i wouldn’t worry about her too much, dear,” the woman continued, “you know what Esme always used to say. They’re all strong and daring, until you corner them.”

“Yes, I remember,” Jeanette said, reflecting on the moment she’d heard Esme’s words, “no matter how sturdy they seem, they all crumble and break just as easily.”

Jeanette finished the quote and saw the corner of the older woman’s mouth curl into a small smile. 

“So, is there a reason you picked today of all days to decide to relieve me of the living, breathing hell that is public education early?” Jeanette asked, curiously. 

“Well you know we have work to do,” the woman said, rolling her eyes, but still clearly amused. 

“Ah right,” Jeanette said, recalling their current situation, “you know Fonda Tyson attacked Violet Baudelaire, the other day, right?”

“Yes, I am quite aware,” the woman said with a smirk, “she even did the pleasure of mentioning a certain woman, by the name of Nataja, who would be hunting her down.”

“Hmm, interesting,” Jeanette said, developing her own smirk and playing along with the woman’s game, “and will that certain “Nataja” be hunting her down any time soon?”

“Hmm, depends,” the woman continued, “on whether Violet Baudelaire minds her own and stays out “Nataja’s” way.”

“This is Violet Baudelaire we’re talking about,” Jeanette chuckled, “minding her own business has never been apart of her character. It seems quite unlikely that she’d start now.”

“Which is why we’re starting our work early,” the woman explained, seemingly upset with having to do any work at all. 

The two made it to the van, which the woman swiftly unlocked and climbed in. 

The other occupants of the van greeted Jeanette as they did everyday when she climbed in after coming from school. 

“Where are we off to first?” Jeanette asked as she buckled her seat belt. 

“We have many stops to make,” the dark haired woman replied, starting the engine and driving quickly away from the school, “but I thought we’d stop by the old library first. I have a dear friend I want to catch up with.”

“Does she know too?” Jeanette asked. 

“Of course,” the woman replied gripping the steering wheel tightly in her black gloves, Jeanette seeing her dark smile from in the rearview mirror, “and it’s killing two birds with one stone, being that she’s also a connection to our dear cousins.”

“Ah yes, how could I forgot?” Jeanette replied with a nod, “too much time around Georgia Dell has caused my brain to get smaller.”

“Georgia Dell?” A voice piped from the back seat, “she still works here?! Ugh, I thought she would’ve been long dead by now. At least, I was hoping she would be.”

“As was I,” Jeanette huffed, “then I wouldn’t have to deal with her. What an old fool!”

“Half the time she’s soppy stern and half at our throats,” the dark haired woman chuckled, her bright green eyes seem to light up in a different, but equally familiar way when she’d recited the words. 

Jeanette, and the cars other occupants, smiled knowing smiles. 

The van turned onto a bumpy road, and the sound of the woman’s dark laugh could be heard down the long stretch of the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interesting ;)
> 
> What did Ramona mumble? Why was Jeanette upset? Who is Nataja? 
> 
> Make your predictions and any other comments you’d like!
> 
> See you soon :)

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think so far! A very interesting and mysterious start ;). 
> 
> And I promise I will be updating my other story (Don’t Lie to Me) soon. I’ve finally gotten over my busy schedule and a bout of writers block. :D
> 
> See u soon!


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